


No More

by mothmanaintshit



Series: Dragon Age One-shots [20]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Relationship, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-24
Updated: 2015-09-24
Packaged: 2018-04-23 03:52:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4862012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mothmanaintshit/pseuds/mothmanaintshit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[After 'In Hushed Whispers' // Pre-Relationship]<br/>Watching her friends die, even if it was only a temporary death, put Adaar off kilter. She needed time, needed to get away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No More

And he was just thrown aside. Dead. Lifeless. Gone. His eyes were open, staring straight at her as the demons and Venatori captured Leliana. _Solas_. _Blackwall_. _Leliana_. **_Dead_**. Dorian stood behind her, yelling at her, grabbing her arm to keep her from running to her friends. If not for the sudden pull from the rift, she would have. Gods be **damned** if she wouldn’t react to her friend’s slaughter.

The second she saw Alexius again, she lunged, clawed, cried. “You _killed_ them! You bastard, how could you?” Blackwall, Solas and Dorian pulled her off of him, Felix ran to his father’s side. The rest was a blur to her, the memory of her friend’s death burnt into her mind. She couldn’t look at them; she could barely look at Dorian. Then in came the Queen, angry at Fiona, angry at Alexius, angry at her, at _everyone_ ; her guards were even terrified. She allied with the Mages, took them all under her wing. She left Redcliffe as soon as possible, her companions and new allies close behind. They settled in the Crossroads for the night. Adaar helping the mages settle down before finally leaving them.

She traveled far from the Crossroads, a hut that stood between the Inquisition camp and the small village. Once alone she shut the door and fell to her knees. She cried, screamed. She threw up into a vacant chest, leaned her head against the side and continued to weep for her friends. She knew they were alive, _now_ , but at any second they would be dead. Gone. That future was unspeakable. She hadn’t known them for long, some she knew longer than the others, but ten months was long enough to form a bond with them. Even Dorian, who she had only known for three weeks. She was tired, but she couldn’t sleep. Every time she shut her eyes, she saw his lifeless ones. The ones that had a natural spark of mischief and sadness, the ones that shinned even in the dark, the ones that challenged her on the battle field, the ones that watched her when they thought she wasn’t looking, the ones that averted her gaze when she caught them.

He died. Because of her, he died. Seeing that future made up her mind. She could no longer try to act as if being the Herald was nothing. She did not believe in Andraste, she never would, but _some_ higher power put her on this path. She needed to see this through. If not for herself, then for her friends. No more unneeded death. No more…

There was a knock on the door, it made Adaar’s head pound. She couldn’t move, couldn’t talk. She was weak. But the door opened and she moved her head up to look at the figure. He found her. He was very much alive, and his eyes were shining. He shouldn’t see her like this, at her lowest point. Still bloodied and bruised from the future. The Avaar War Paint chipping off, her Vitaar faded and smudged, bile still on her lips, tear stains…

“I’m fine.” She looked away, leaning the side of her head back on her palm that laid on the edge of the open chest.

“You are most certainly not fine.” He shut the door soon after, making his way around her and sitting next to the chest. Adaar shut her eyes, trying to hold in the next round of _whatever_ was coming up from her throat. They sat in comfortable silence before she threw up again, her hand pulling her hair away from her face as her stomach continued to churn. Blackwall’s hand idly laid on her thigh, a frown behind the mess of his beard.

“Dorian…He, uh…He told us a bit of what you saw.” He was as uncomfortable about the subject as she was. Adaar wiped from bile from her lips, wiping it against the grassy patch that sat next to her before leaning her head back down against the chest.

“Bet he painted a pretty picture.” Her voice was raw; emotions she wasn’t sure she could feel laced throughout her tone. She shut her eyes again and with a small shake of her head pushed herself away from the chest. 

“I’m fine, Blackwall…you don’t need to be here.”

He grunted, “You’re right, I don’t. But someone needs me right now, a very good friend of mine, in fact.”

She couldn’t help but let the smile tugging at her lips take its shape, leaning her head back onto the chest, “My friends shouldn’t see me like this.”

“Good thing I’m your best friend.” He smirked at her, and a poor excuse for a laugh erupted from her. She moved her leg and lightly kicked at his tight, “Ah, don’t make me laugh. I’m to tired to show more emotion then necessary.”

“Understood, my lady.” He grunted and made himself more comfortable, leaning back against the edge of the stone fireplace. Adaar smiled again, but hid it behind her hand. He called her that from time to time recently, always when they were alone (which was almost never.) She liked it, she liked him.

“Thank you, Blackwall.” It hurt to talk, even more to swallow the lump in her throat, “…For coming to check up on me.”

“Solas and Dorian offered,” He hummed, looking down at the ground, “But I figured you would rather speak to me.”

“Someone’s feeling bold.” She smirked into her hand, her throat scratchy. She should stop talking. She saw a small blush, hidden well behind his beard and barely noticeable. She continued smirking, watching him. She really liked him.


End file.
